


The Road Reluctantly Traveled

by NachoDiablo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Lack of Communication, M/M, Post-First War with Voldemort, Raising Harry Potter, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-07-25 08:42:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16194041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: Remus Lupin doesn't know how he wound up raising Harry and designing sex toys, but he's too tired to argue against any of it.Sirius Black knows exactly how he wound up charged with murder and locked away in Azkaban, but he's too guilt-ridden to fight for his freedom.Minerva McGonagall is thoroughly fed up with both of them.





	The Road Reluctantly Traveled

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Muse and Moony for running such a fun fest! I've always wanted to scrawl out some Raising Harry, and you know I can't resist letting these losers have a Happily Ever After.
> 
> Lots of thanks to [shaggydogstail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail) for the beta read! <3

Remus never thought he’d see the day when Minerva McGonagall went mad.

Dumbledore’s gone off his rocker as well, of course, but he’s always been about halfway there to begin with. McGonagall, however, had always seemed unshakably sensible. And yet here she sits, in Lyall Lupin’s living room, teacup in one hand and a bag full of Harry’s toys in the other.

Remus sets his own tea down on the table and smiles calmly. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I think perhaps you’ve come to the wrong house. I can’t possibly be the one to mind Harry.”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkle with merry madness. “I assure you, we are indeed at the correct house. There’s no one more suited for the job.”

“What about Lily’s family?” Remus asks. “Or one of James’ long-lost relatives? Or the giant squid? Or literally anyone else?”

“I will admit that we had… alternate arrangements,” Dumbledore says mildly, “but it appears that those arrangements will not be working out after all.”

“Hmph.” McGonagall narrows her eyes and glares at Dumbledore, who ignores her.

“James has no living family,” he continues, “and Lily’s sister has… declined our attempts to reach out and--”

“She _left him_ on the doorstep!” McGonagall snaps. “Her own sister’s child, abandoned and shunned, like a-- like--”

“There is no need to finish that thought, Minerva.” Dumbledore’s tone is even, but it’s threaded with steel. “What’s done is done. I have spoken to Petunia, and she will have her own regrets to live with, I am sure. For now, our main focus must be on Harry’s safety.”

“I agree,” says Remus. “Which is why I’m at a loss to see how leaving him with a jobless werewolf who can only cook beans on toast is the best course of action. Surely there are other Order members who could do better. Or perhaps a wizarding family could bring him up.”

“You know as well as I do that the surviving Order members are few and far between,” Dumbledore says softly, “and none of them are… equipped to raise a child. As for a wizarding family, there are certainly qualified candidates, but I do not think it prudent to have the Boy Who Lived so directly entangled in wizarding society right from the start.”

Remus doesn’t understand this logic at all, but before he can object, Dumbledore clears his throat and continues.

“You have always been a valued member of the Order, Remus. You always did what was necessary, even when it was difficult. And now with Peter dead, Sirius in Azkaban, and Lily’s family… being as they are, you are the closest thing to family Harry has left. I know you, Remus. You have always been a kind-hearted boy. You will do the right thing.”

Remus scowls at the bright blue eyes boring into his own. He’s thoroughly tired of doing the right thing. Doing the _right thing_ always seems to lead to everyone else getting hurt, while Remus somehow emerges unscathed. It’s not right.

“Remus.” Lyall’s voice is quiet. He doesn’t look away from Harry, who is smiling and clapping as Lyall traces patterns of gold sparks in the air with is wand. “The boy needs you. I’ve got the space here in the house for you both. We can make it work. For Merlin’s sake, pull yourself together and accept it.”

Remus wants to argue further, but the sight of Harry’s giggling face softens his resolve just long enough for Dumbledore to smile triumphantly.

“Excellent! I’ve got some protective measures to work out, but I assure you, Harry will be safe here.” He leans over and rests a hand on Remus’ knee. “Thank you. I’m sure James and Lily would be pleased.”

“There’s nothing _pleasing_ about this situation,” Remus says flatly. “And we’ll never know what James and Lily would think, because they aren’t here.”

“That’s it, son,” Lyall says tiredly. “There’s that positive attitude we all know and love.”

Dumbledore’s bemused smile is to be expected, but McGonagall’s guffaws are a sure sign of a breakdown, Remus is certain.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

“Moony?”

Remus bites back a grin and pretends not to feel the light pat of a small hand on his thigh as he reads his book.

“Moony?”

“Hmmm, did someone say something?” Remus looks around the room, deliberately avoiding looking at Harry, who is standing by the sofa with a book of his own, giggling at Remus’ deception.

“Moooooony?”

Remus sighs heavily and looks up at the ceiling. “I thought I heard a little boy’s voice, but it must have just been a Poltergeist. It can’t possibly be Harry, because Harry was put to bed just ten minutes ago.”

“Moony Moony MoonyMoonyMoony!!” Harry shrieks and clamours onto the sofa. He inadvertently whacks Remus in the ribs with his book, but Remus doesn’t flinch as he looks down at Harry with an indulgent smile.

“Ah, so it _is_ Harry after all!” he exclaims. “What are you doing up, you little Pygmy Puff? I thought Uncle Lyall put you to bed?”

“No sleeps!’ Harry declares. He pushes his book into Remus’ lap. “Please?”

“Alright,” Remus agrees. “One more story, then.” He opens the book and turns the thick cardboard pages. “Babbitty Rabbitty again?”

“Hop hop!” says Harry gleefully. Remus rolls his eyes as he flips through the book. Harry is not interested in the full story. He only gets excited for the end, when Babbitty Rabbitty shifts to her Animagus form and hops around on the last charmed page.

It’s taken a few weeks, but Remus is finally able to read that last part without drifting off into thoughts about other Animagi he has known. Any and all Animagus thoughts have been squashed deep down, somewhere where Remus won’t ever have to think about them again. No stags tripping as they leap over streams. No rodents shimmying up drainpipes to unlock pub doors from the inside. No dogs hopping heavily onto laps and transforming into humans who are too handsome for their own good, no steely silver eyes, no sharp cheekbones or soft lips, no--

“Moony?”

Remus blinks. He’d somehow blanked as he made his way to the end of the story. A small rabbit hops cheekily across the page and twitches her nose.

Remus lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “What is it, love?”

“Gimme ears? Like Babby-ty?” Harry raises his hands to the sides of his head and wiggles his fingers.

Remus’ blood runs cold.

Charmed rabbit ears were _his_ thing with Harry. Only _he’s_ not here any longer. There is only Remus left.

Remus swallows hard and plasters a smile on his face. “Sorry, love. No rabbit ears tonight.”

Harry looks dubious, but Remus snaps the book shut and scoops Harry into his arms. “Come on, love. Time for bed.”

“But--” Harry starts to protest but Remus cuts him off.

“No more stories. It is time for bed.” His voice is low and firm. His tone is not unkind, but there’s a dash of harshness that keeps Harry silent as Remus carries him back to bed.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

Remus sits on a bench in the garden. He skims through a heavy reference book, but his eyes remain focused on the small black-haired blur zooming across the tops of the tulips. Lyall cringes as a bird feeder tips over, but McGonagall merely smiles and says _excellent reflexes_ when Harry remains on his toy broom.

Eventually, her pupil abandons his training to focus on a particularly fat garden gnome who is snoozing on a rock. While Lyall and Harry monitor the gnome, McGonagall sits down next to Remus, her back ramrod straight.

She nods at Remus’ book. “How is your research going?”

“Fine,” Remus squeaks out as he tries not to slam the book shut. He isn’t sure how many details McGonagall knows about the freelance work he’s been doing, but he hopes it’s a minimal amount.

“Dumbledore tells me that he’s been sending quite a bit of work your way.” McGonagall’s expression is still blank, but the left corner of her mouth is tilted up ever so slightly.

Remus hopes his face isn’t as flushed as it feels. “Er, yes. Very kind of him, to help me work from home. Easier to dodge the, er… lunar cycle questions.”

McGonagall doesn’t reply. Remus bites back a sigh of relief as he lays his book down on his lap.

When Dumbledore had asked Remus if he’d be interested in doing some freelance work from home, Remus had assumed it would be something scholarly, like editing or copywriting. He hadn’t expected a letter of introduction to _Accio Pleasure,_ assuring them that Remus was highly skilled in many of the charms and spells used to modify their products for custom orders.

Six dildos, fourteen vibrators, and two double-dongs later, Remus can admit to himself that he rather enjoys innovating new ways to enhance people’s wanking.

“He’s a good boy,” McGonagall says softly. She’s looking at Harry with misty eyes as he pats the gnome a bit too hard on the head. The gnome looks irate, but Lyall is dangling a piece of cheese nearby, so the gnome sits calmly through the manhandling.

Remus smiles as Lyall helps Harry offer the cheese to the gnome. “He is.”

Neither of them point out the myriad of ways that Harry mirrors his parents. McGonagall sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. “He seems to be doing well here, with you and your father.”

“Only because you stop in to check on us every week,” Remus points out. “Otherwise I’m sure we’d never have made it this far.”

McGonagall narrows her eyes at his self deprecation, but says nothing. They sit in silence for a while as the gnome nibbles at the cheese in Harry’s hand.

Remus is barely listening when McGonagall eventually speaks. “I shall never understand what happened,” she says softly.

Remus privately agrees. It doesn’t make any sense. Sirius had a cruel streak, surely, and he was prone to rash decisions, but he had loved James with all his heart. Remus might have doubted a great many things about Sirius, during their friendship and after, but he’d never doubted that, not for a second.

Shame twists Remus’ stomach into knots. He’s started to doubt a great deal of things during the last few months before Halloween. He’d pulled away from the others, structured some distance in an attempt to keep his fears and insecurities at bay. If only he’d paid closer attention, he might have noticed how horribly wrong everything had become, before it was too late.

“And to know it was close to a year of betrayal…”

Remus blinks in confusion. “A year? What do you mean?”

McGonagall looks startled, as though she’d forgotten he was there. “The spying. Dumbledore said he’d suspected something for the past year.”

Remus still doesn’t understand. “I don’t… there was a spy for a _year?”_  Remus had known about the betrayal, had known that Sirius had been feeding information to the Death Eaters, but he hadn’t known that it had been going on for an entire bloody year.

“Apparently.”

Remus shakes his head. “No, no… You’re saying someone was spying on James and Lily? For a year?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re saying it was Sirius?”

“Yes, Mr. Lupin,” McGonagall says crisply, “that is exactly what I am saying. What part are you not understanding?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Remus says, his voice laden with sarcasm. “I’ll admit to being a bit taken aback at the part where we’re concluding that Sirius Black, the git with no patience and plenty of susceptibility to goading, was a _covert spy_ for an entire bloody _year.”_

McGonagall eyes him carefully for a moment before nodding slowly. “I have to admit that you may have a point there. But it was war. There were extreme circumstances.”

“And what does Sirius do under extreme circumstances?” Remus argues. “He makes a scene! Runs away from home, arranges a blind date with a werewolf, flies a fucking motorbike past a swarm of Muggle police officers!”

“He isn’t subtle,” McGonagall agrees, seemingly unperturbed by Remus’ swearing. “I’ll give you that much.”

Remus steadies his breath as he watches Harry lean against Lyall in the garden. Harry’s eyes droop as he rests a small hand on the snoozing gnome that’s curled up in his lap.

Perhaps he could have accepted Sirius’ betrayal as fact, had he been alone in some pub, drowning his sorrows in firewhisky and self loathing. Here, however, in his father’s garden, with Harry’s face in his peripheral and happy memories constantly bubbling to the surface of his consciousness, Remus can’t shake the feeling that _something_ isn’t right.

“I want to see him,” he says decisively. “I need to know.”

McGonagall looks wary. “Remus,” she says, “even if he wasn’t spying as Dumbledore suspects, that is no guarantee that he’s innocent.”

Remus nods slowly. He knows how easy it is to get Sirius riled up. He can easily believe that Sirius had let something slip by accident, or through trickery.

“I don’t know what the truth is, but I don’t think we have it right now. Whatever really happened, I have to know. For Harry.”

 _And for me,_ he thinks, but doesn’t say. Guilt claws at his insides as he thinks about how very badly he wants to speak with Sirius. There are so many questions he’s aching to ask. _What did you do_ and _why did you let me pull away_ and _was any of it real for you_ and _do you ever think of me_ and so many others.

But for now, there’s only one question to ask, and he’ll ask it. For Harry.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

“I killed them.”

Remus stares at the pale stranger with darkly circled eyes and unkempt hair crouched in the corner of Sirius’ cell. Two dull grey eyes stare back at him like a pair of snuffed out candles. Remus feels his stomach drop like a stone. He’d told himself not to hope, he _hadn’t_ hoped, but...

McGonagall clears her throat and moves to stand ramrod straight in front of the cell. “Mr. Black,” she says firmly, “are you saying that you made You-Know-Who aware of the Potters’ location?”

“Yes,” Sirius whispers. “My actions caused their deaths. My fault. Everything.”

Remus narrows his eyes. “So you were the Secret Keeper, then? And you… you told the Death Eaters about… you really did it?”

Sirius closes his eyes and leans his head back against the dingy wall. “I told you, I killed them. What more do you want?”

“The truth!” snaps Remus. He’s noticed the slump in Sirius’ shoulders, the tremble in his lower lip, the crack in his voice. Remus is all too well versed in the telltale signs of self pity not to notice them in others. “I came here for the truth, not… whatever games you’re playing with yourself.”

Sirius’ eyes snap open, and they’re aflame this time. “What do _you_ know about the truth?” he growls. “You always were good at making lies sound like facts. Always sneaking around, always holding back. It’s why I believed…”

He trails off and looks away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m where I belong. I killed them.”

“Bollocks!” Remus feels anger bubbling up in his chest. “If you killed them, then admit it properly. Admit that you were the spy, that you turned on the Order. You were the Secret Keeper, you sold out James and Lily. Say those words.”

Sirius’ glare intensifies. “The details don’t matter,” he says stubbornly. “You came here for the truth, and I gave it to you.”

“No, you didn’t!” Remus says through clenched teeth. “All I see is a selfish prat feeling sorry for himself and wallowing in whatever poor choices lead him to--”

“There aren’t any mirrors in this shithole,” Sirius snaps, “and I don’t know how you’d be seeing _that_ otherwise.”

“You’re impossible!” Remus’ fists are curled tightly around the bars. “You do what you want, regardless of how it affects anyone else, and you never--”

“Oh, so I suppose I should be more like you, and never do _anything_ I want--”

“Enough!”

Remus jumps as McGonagall’s sharp tone slices through the air. Her narrowed eyes and thin-lipped grimace bring Remus back to Sixth year detention after the the Bubotuber Molotov Cocktail incident.

She looks back and forth between Remus and Sirius sternly. “I’ll have you know that I had to sit through three hours of polite conversation with the Warden’s mother-in-law to get this visit approved. I did not endure endless pictures of her trip to a cauldron factory to watch the two of you act like petulant children. Seven years of that was quite enough for me.”

McGonagall points one finger at Sirius. “The official story of record is that you were the Potter’s Secret Keeper and you gave them up to You-Know-Who personally after spying for the Death Eaters for over a year. Is that story completely accurate, or are there additional details that might be relevant?”

Sirius sighs and shakes his head. “There’s more, I suppose.”

McGonagall nods. “Well then,” she says tersely, “it appears that we will need to organize a trial. It seems as though every well-known Death Eater is getting their day in court. You might as well have one as well.”

“It’s useless,” Sirius says dully. “They won’t--”

“They _will.”_ McGonagall’s tone leaves no room for argument. “I’ll speak to Albus. And possibly sit through a series of photographs of a family holiday in Majorca.”

She turns towards Remus. “And _you._ You are supposed to be here for Harry. You are _not_ supposed to be antagonizing your old beau to mask your own feelings of guilt. Honestly, you were never this difficult in school.”

“Yes he was,” Sirius mutters. He peers over at Remus. “Harry, is he… How is he?”

Remus bites back a sarcastic response and clears his throat. “He’s… doing well. He’s staying with me at my father’s place.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “With you? Not with...” He trails off as he furrows his brow in thought.

Remus sighs heavily. “There’s no one left,” he says quietly. “Only me.”

Sirius winces. “Moony,” he says shakily, “I never wanted… You must know…”

“He doesn’t know anything,” snaps McGonagall, “because you haven’t been _saying_ anything.”

She steps back and rests a hand firmly on Remus’ arm. “We have to go,” she says decisively. “But believe me, Mr. Black, we _will_ be back, and you _will_ have your trial. Either you can continue to wallow in self pity, or you can own up to your mistakes and give Harry the full picture that he will need once he’s old enough to understand… everything.”

Remus doesn’t meet either of their eyes as he shuffles out of the prison. He’s still blushing at the _former beau_ comment. He wants to protest that it’s not entirely accurate. He and Sirius were never together, not officially. Then again, they weren’t exactly _not_ together, either. He’s not entirely sure _what_ they were, to be honest. It was informal, and complicated, and unspoken, and…

And _over._

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

**_Item of Evidence #17 in the Trial of Sirius Black_ **

**_Transcription of the Pensieve Memory of Bathilda Bagshot_ **

**_Dated Tuesday, 27_ ** **_th_ ** **_October, 1981, 4.37pm_ **

_Bathilda is sitting in her front garden, drinking a firewhisky old fashioned. She watches Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew Apparate on the pavement and enter the Potter residence. Pettigrew looks ill. Black notices Bathilda and gives a small wave. She flashes him a rude gesture, which he returns with a jaunty grin and a salute._

_As she drains the last dregs of her glass, Black departs the Potter residence alone. He wanders over and sits next to Bathilda on her porch swing, lighting up a cigarette which he passes to her after a few puffs. They sit for a while, chatting idly about the weather as Bathilda’s blind old kneazle rubs at Black’s ankles, begging for pets._

_As Black grinds out the butt of the cigarette with his heel, Pettigrew departs the house next door and heads over to them. Black appears quite serious when he asks if it’s done. Pettigrew nervously inquires as to whether or not Black can remember where James and Lily are hiding. Black looks confused for a moment, and Bathilda mentions that she can’t recall where the Potters have run off to, either._

_Black breaks into a gleeful grin and claps Pettigrew on the back. Pettigrew still looks ashen faced. Bathilda hollers at them to get off her porch, but she’s smiling as they Apparate away with a pop._

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

“There he is! See him? Right there, with the mousy brown haired bloke. They say he’s innocent, that he wasn’t really working for You-Know-Who.”

“I don’t believe he’s innocent for a second. He’s a nasty bastard, that one. Was two years behind me at school, and let me tell you, he’s just as cruel and mad as the rest of his family. Sorting Hat must’ve been kept in the wrong greenhouse before sticking that nutter into Gryffindor, if you catch my drift...”

“Yes that’s him. The Black heir. Apparently not such a disappointment to his family after all. He may have been exonerated, but that says nothing about his true loyalties. They remain to be seen, I suppose. As do a great many things.”

“I ain’t surprised he’s out. Death Eaters walkin’ free everywhere you turn these days. Makes sense the richest one’d be roaming ‘round like he owns the place.”

Remus casts a sideways glance at Sirius as they walk down the streets of Hogsmeade. Sirius’ face is a thundercloud, and his fists are clenched tightly against his sides. He looks quite capable of the murders he’s so recently been acquitted of.

“We don’t have to stay,” Remus mutters quietly. “We can go back home.”

Sirius purses his lips before shaking his head. “No,” he says, “It’s fine. You need supplies for the full… er, for tomorrow.” He looks over at Remus, and the forced smile on his face twists Remus’ insides painfully. “Besides, Lyall’s probably enjoying his break.”

Remus winces. “It’s not… he’s very happy to have you staying with us,” he says lamely. “We all are.”

Sirius chuckles darkly. “Right. We’re one big happy sodding family.”

Remus doesn’t bother arguing. It’s not as though Sirius is wrong. Things have been tense in the Lupin household in the past few weeks since Sirius was released. Everyone has tried to keep cheerful in front of Harry, but the passive aggressive comments have been running high, as have the bills from the off-licence delivery owl.

After a particularly snippy morning discussion as to which toppings should be used on Harry’s pancakes, Lyall had been firm in his suggestion that Sirius accompany Remus to the apothecary to get some fresh air. Neither Remus nor Sirius had the heart to disagree with a man who’d just had maple syrup spilled down the back of his robes, so they’d reluctantly Apparated down to Hogsmeade together in silence.

Sirius nearly stumbles as a small boy slams into his shins and tumbles to the ground in a fit of giggles. Before Remus can bend to help him up, a frazzled looking woman hurries over and swoops the boy up into her arms.

“Michael, watch where you’re going!” She looks up at Sirius with wide eyes. “I’m _so_ sorry Mr. Black, please don’t… We’re pure-bloods, I promise you, and he didn’t mean any harm, so there’s no need to--”

“What the fuck do I care if you’re pure-bloods?” Sirius snaps. “And I’m not going to _do_ anything!”

The woman shrinks back, clutching her child to her chest.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m _so_ sorry--”

“Stop apologising!” Sirius snarls. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Merlin’s bollocks, I don’t--”

“Thank you,” Remus says hastily as he grabs Sirius’ arm. “You’ve a lovely boy there, so glad he’s alright, but we really have to go.”

He marches Sirius back down the road and Apparates them both home. Sirius quakes with rage the entire time.

Once they’re back in the house, Remus rubs his fingers against his temples. “What’s _wrong_ with you?” he hisses. “You frightened that poor woman half to death!”

“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Sirius argues. “It’s everyone else that’s gone mental! I’m a free man, aren’t I? The evidence proved that, it was in all the papers. So if people are going to keep acting as though I’m some fucking Death Eater out to eat children--”

“Your guilt was in all the papers just a few weeks ago, with evidence,” Remus points out, “You might be a free man now, but you’re still a prat, and it’s not making you seem very innocent when you walk around glaring at everyone like you’re planning on hexing them!”

“Sod the lot of them,” Sirius sneers. “They haven’t got the foggiest… acting as though I’m somehow back in the family graces because I _didn’t_ side with old Voldy! They don’t know me. They don’t know _shit._ If they want to hate me, fine then. I don’t bloody care.”

“Maybe you don’t care _now,”_ Remus says coldly, “but you might in ten years when Harry hasn’t got any mates at school because no one wants their children hanging around the boy with the nutter godfather. Think about someone other than yourself for once.”

Sirius lets out a cruel burst of laughter. “How dare you judge me? What about _your_ choices? Hiding yourself away during the war, always having some excuse to be gone, keeping yourself out of the fray--”

 _“Out of the fray?”_ Remus fights the urge to hex Sirius into silence. “You don’t know what I saw, what I did… You can’t possibly… and every choice I made, it was because I trusted _myself_ to do the right thing. Clearly you didn’t trust yourself to do the same, or else you would have been Secret Keeper like James asked, and they’d still be alive.”

Sirius looks stricken. Remus knows he’s gone too far, that he should take it back, but he doesn’t.

“Moony?”

Remus feels the breath leave his body as he turns to see Harry standing nearby, steadied against the doorway with one small hand. His eyes are wide and shining with unshed tears, and his lower lip is trembling.

Remus goes to comfort him, but Lyall appears from the other room and quickly picks Harry up.

“Come on, love,” he says calmly. “We’ll go and visit Miss Bathilda for the evening. Does that sound like fun?”

A watery smile spreads across Harry’s face. “‘Kay,” he says softly. He presses his face against Lyall’s shoulder as Lyall turns to face Remus and Sirius with an uncharacteristic glare.

“We’ll be back by lunchtime tomorrow,” he says shortly. “Work it out by then.” He turns and heads up the stairs without another word.

Sirius looks as ashamed as Remus feels. Sirius clears his throat and stalks past Remus. “Need the loo,” he says haughtily. His shoulder bangs harshly against Remus as he passes.

Remus does not bother pointing out that Sirius is headed towards the study rather than the bathroom. Instead, he walks to the kitchen to write out an urgent order for more firewhisky.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

“You should have left me in Azkaban.” Sirius is hunched up in one corner of the couch, his second glass of firewhisky gripped tightly in his hands. He stares vacantly at the flames in the fireplace as they lick around the kindling.

Remus drains his own glass and rattles the ice cubes. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, you did,” Sirius says irritably. “I know you love to lie, but you needn’t bother. Not for this.”

Remus lets out a small sigh. “I shouldn’t have said it,” he mumbles.

Sirius shrugs. “Shouldn’t have done a lot of things,” he says. “Shouldn’t have pushed us all away, left us with only Peter to turn to.”

“I know,” whispers Remus, because it’s true.

“And Dumbledore should have used some common sense,” Sirius continues. “If he’d bothered to insist that the Aurors check my wand, maybe we’d have been able to track down Peter, before he had time to get into proper hiding. He’s long gone by now.”

Remus nods mutely as he watches the ice cubes roll around in his glass.

“For that matter,” Sirius continues pompously, as though he’s speaking to an entire audience rather than a half-burned log, “I don’t know how anyone with a brain could’ve thought I’d done it. Even McGonagall accepted it, and she knew better than anyone how close James and I--”

_“Enough!”_

Remus’ glass hurtles through the air and explodes against the brick of the fireplace. The glass shards shower over the kindling, but the fire burns on uninterrupted.

He glares at Sirius with gritted teeth. “You’re so full of shit! Everyone believed you did it because _you_ never said otherwise! You just let us believe… You never _defended_ yourself!”

“I shouldn’t’ve _had_ to!” Sirius snaps. His own glass lies on the floor on a soaked patch of carpet. “It should have been fucking obvious that I’d _never--”_

“HA!” Remus sneers. “Shut the _fuck_ up. Anyone who knows you knows that there’s _nothing_ you’d _never_ do. You’re like Fiendfyre. Once you’ve gone off on something, there’s no stopping you, and you just keep going til you’ve destroyed everything. And you don’t fucking _care,_ not as long as you come out alright at the end.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Sirius’ voice stings of sarcasm. “I don’t give a shit about anyone but myself. All those years I spent defying my fucked-up family and fighting Death Eaters, risking my fucking life, that wasn’t for any overarching cause, that was me _doing as I pleased.”_

“Don’t pretend like it wasn’t a bit of both,” Remus says icily. “You loved playing the rebel, being contrary. Fighting for the underdog. Fucking a werewolf. Don’t act as though there wasn’t any appeal in being defiant.”

Sirius’ sneer is still carved into his face, but his cheeks are pale. “If you think so little of me, maybe I should leave.”

Remus leans back against the couch with a shrug. He wills himself to remain calm and stop shaking. “If you like. No one’s forcing you to stay.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and folds his arms across his chest. “You know I’m stuck here. I can’t abandon Harry.”

Remus inhales shakily. “Your Harry’s godfather, after all. If you want to leave, take him somewhere better than this… I can’t stop you.”

Sirius laughs and shakes his head. “I honestly can’t believe you. How do you do it? How is it so _easy_ for you to push people away? Act like people don’t matter?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Remus lies.

“Yes, you bloody well _do_ know.”

Remus jumps. Sirius’ voice is noticeably louder. He realizes that it’s because Sirius is now sitting directly next to him, thigh pressed against thigh.

Remus worries that he’s forgotten how to breathe. “I… I don’t…”

“You _do.”_ Sirius’ whisper brushes hotly past Remus’ ear. “You never let me in.”

“I… I don’t…” Remus’ voice catches in his throat.

A hand claws its way around Remus’ thigh. “You never let yourself want me. Not the way I want you.”

Remus wants to throw himself into the flames, burn away to nothing, but the heat of Sirius’ palm seeps through Remus’ robes, tethering him inescapably.

He hazards a glance at Sirius as he replies, “No one’s ever wanted anything the way I want you. You were… You were everything to me, everything I wasn’t supposed to want. And I know you don’t take things as seriously as I do, you’d never--”

Sirius lunges towards him without warning. Their lips crash together as Sirius kisses him fiercely. Remus hastens to respond. His hands fly up to tangle in Sirius’ hair and pull him closer.

Sirius scrambles to throw a leg over Remus’ lap, but in their hurry they fall off the couch in a blur of limbs and robes. Sirius laughs as he yanks his own robes over his head and tosses them dangerously close to the fire. Remus’ breath hitches as he takes in the long, lean lines of Sirius’ body, the dark want in Sirius’ eyes.

He discards his own robes and pulls Sirius down towards him. They pant heavily as they roll over so that Remus has Sirius’ wrists pinned to the carpet. Sirius leans his head back and Remus swoops down to suck a hot, wet bruise against the pale skin of his throat.

Sirius gasps as their cocks brush together. Remus bites back a groan as he grinds down against Sirius and slots their hips together. He wraps one hand gently around Sirius’ throat, letting his thumb brush down through the thin layer of sweat beading up around his collarbone.

Sirius’ hand is slick with a wordless lubricant spell as he grips their cocks together. He strokes them in a stuttered rhythm as Remus thrusts his hips and tightens his grip on Sirius slightly. Sirius’ eyes are wide as he stares up at Remus with swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

Remus has been plagued by happy memories lately, but he’s forgotten how beautiful Sirius looks like this, spread out beneath him, open and wanting. He’s forgotten how much he craves this closeness, this connection with another person, and not just any person, but _Sirius,_ his Sirius.

Sirius comes first, hot and fast between them. He arches up slightly as his come splatters on Remus’ stomach.  The additional slick of Sirius’ come on his cock pushes Remus over the edge as he follows with a shudder.

Afterwards, they lie on the hard floor and pretend like they’re comfortable. Remus’ thin frame is curled around Sirius’ back.

He tightens his grip around Sirius’ waist. “I didn’t want to pull away,” he whispers against Sirius’ neck. “But I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Least of all myself.”

Sirius sighs and laces their fingers together. “I know,” he says softly. “It’s my fault. I let you go. Pretended like it didn’t matter. Didn’t want to bruise my ego.”

He chuckles without humor. “I blame both of us, you know? James and me. We thought Peter was a Marauder, through-and-through. Never saw how he’d turned.”

Remus doesn’t bother offering empty words of comfort. He pulls Sirius even tighter, and presses a kiss to his shoulder.

Sirius lets out a shuddering sigh as he squeezes Remus’ hand. “Dunno what I’m supposed to do now,” he says. “No friends, no family. No war. Nothing to rage against. What am I supposed to _do?”_

“Take up gardening,” Remus says with a smirk. “I seem to remember you and James were quite skilled at, er, enhanced horticulture.”

“Your dad would love that,” Sirius snickers. “He needs something to calm himself with all this madness in the house.” He presses his ass back against Remus’ hips. “Maybe I should work with you, eh? Invent the cutting edge bit-ticklers.”

Remus laughs. “We’re such good influences. I’m sure Dumbledore is congratulating himself on placing Harry with us.”

“He should be.” Remus can hear the smile in Sirius’ voice. “We’re fucking brilliant.”

Remus has to agree. He and Sirius aren’t perfect. Merlin’s pants, they’re not even _close_ to perfect, and he doesn’t need an O in Divination to know that _perfect_ is an impossible dream for the two of them and their myriad of issues.

They may not be perfect, but they’re _brilliant._ Together.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

“What about Paris?”

Remus looks up from the pile of potatoes he’s been dicing with his wand and raises one eyebrow at Sirius. “You really want to go back to Paris? After what happened the summer before Seventh year?”

“No!” shrieks Harry from his seat on the countertop.

“Oh, right,” Sirius snickers. “Forgot about that.” He hands a cherry tomato to Harry, who places it methodically into the salad bowl.

“Of course you did,” Remus sighs. “I, however, will never be able to look at a macaron the same way ever again.”

Sirius ignores him. “What about the Maldives?” he asks. “Supposed to be gorgeous there.”

“That might be nice,” Remus muses.

“No,” Harry says cheerfully. He stuffs a cherry tomato into his mouth and grins cheekily.

“Well, there you have it,” Remus says gravely. “The rules were that the entire family would have to be in agreement if we were going to go on holiday over New Years. Harry’s vetoed the Maldives.”

Sirius sighs. “You seaside-hating lot are no fun.” He holds up another cherry tomato and wordlessly floats it into Harry’s waiting mouth.

“If you want somewhere warm, what about Egypt?” Remus suggests. “We could see the pyramids, maybe pick up a curse or two while we’re there.”

Sirius looks intrigued, but Harry immediately pipes up, “No!”

“You’re awfully picky,” Sirius laughs. “Do you have any suggestions, then?”

Harry nods eagerly. “New Jersey,”  he says confidently.

Sirius barks out a laugh. “I see you and Uncle Lyall have been studying your atlas.”

Harry giggles and tosses a cherry tomato towards Sirius, who bends to catch it in his mouth with a grin.

Remus shapes his head. “I don’t think--”

“Now, hold on for a moment,” Sirius says with a smirk full of tomato. “You’ve vetoed my choices all week. Are you really going to say no to Harry as well?”

“ _You_ want to go to New Jersey?” Remus deadpans.

“Yes,” Sirius says with a shit eating grin.

“Yeah!” Harry says with a fistful of squished tomato.

Remus throws his hands in the air. “Alright,” he says, “We’ll go to New Jersey for New Years.”

Remus smiles to himself as Sirius plants a loud kiss to Harry’s cheek before be mouths _I love you_ to Remus over the top of Harry’s head.

Sirius’ eyes soften as Remus mouths the words back. They’ve all been happier these past few weeks, but Sirius in particular seems lighter; content in a way that Remus has never seen in him before, not even during their school years. Remus makes a mental note to show Sirius exactly how much he loves him this evening.

And he’ll look into Fiji Portkeys as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you think in the comments!
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://wolfstarhq.tumblr.com/) flailing about all things Marauders and mayhem.


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